Red
by iNvIsIbLe GiRl 12
Summary: Red is the color of passion, the color of justice, the color of the soul, the color of death. Each person has a different interpretation of what seems to be such a simple color. CH. 82 SPOILERS. Review please!


**A/N: Hey there! So I was thinking of something really late at night before I feel asleep. The use of the color red in Kuroshitsuji is pretty astounding. It's used in about every arc of the manga, each season of the anime. And so I wrote little splurges from a variety of characters (both animes and the manga) about their feelings towards the color red. I tried to touch upon each manga arc. I may be forgetting some, but I tried. **

**THIS HAS SPOILERS FOR CH. 82 OF THE MANGA. I WARNED YOU.**

**Whoever can guess all the characters just by their drabbles gets a prize! :D**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing ;~;**

Red is the color of flames that engulfed my life. I do not like the color red. Red is a horrible, evil color. The color of his eyes. The eyes that look at me so longingly. The eyes that glare at me, wondering when I will die, how long will I live. Eyes that lust for just one thing. To sink themselves into my cool, calm blue. I have seen red too many times. I wear dark, earthly colors, just to take my mind off of the sickly red I've seen. I do not like the color red.

Red is the color of my fiery soul. It burns with passion, longs for happiness. Red is flashy, red gets attention. I long for his love. Yet he can't seem to see the bright colors. He is fixated on the sapphire, the beautiful, fragile, sweet sapphire. I cry out to him, my soul burns intensely. But just as he has warned me, I will burn myself right out. My red soon dims. He despises the color red. I am nothing to him. Just a ruby red pawn.

Red is my everything. I live for the red. In a world of dull blacks and greys, I am passion, I am me. I make a name for myself. I see those bodies splashed in red and I think to myself how unfortunate it is, to be so weak, to not have a passion to go on. I embody passion. Red is the color of love, of lust. I live according to my beloved crimson. In a place dominated by cold, calculating men, I am a lady of freedom, of passion. I am Lady Death.

Red is the color of justice. Red is the color of the flames which cleanse the filthy. The world is horrid, the world is treacherous. The world is unclean. We must cleanse it. And only a holy fire, the flames of the Holy Ghost can do so. I am a servant of the Lord. I will snuff out the unclean.

Red is the color of youth. I disguise myself, I disguise my age behind a beautiful mask. Age is a horrible thing, especially in the theatre. They will ridicule you and tease you. I don't tell how old I truly am. Instead, I hide behind my pretty red. The amazing red that keeps me beautiful. But no one will know my secret. I love the color red.

Red is the color of beauty. How I adore seeing a beautiful lady doused in that pretty red. Red is the color of robins and roses. And my robins are no exception. I live for the pretty red, I live for the passionate crimson. Oh, how I love it, how I adore it. I need more….more of the red. Red like the flames of life. Red is the color of regeneration. Like a magnificent phoenix, rising from the ashes. I will seize it. I will make sure my crimson reign will never end.

Red is the color of defeat. Horrid red flames engulf me. Everything is horrid. I've lost everything, my family, my trust, my father. All because of him….all because of that brat. Father lied. Father lied to me. Now my brothers and sisters…are marching to their deaths. I lay in a pool of crimson, staring up at the roaring flames. I beg a god, any god, to save them…spare them…Tears roll down my cheeks as I slowly fade away. I fade from the red.

Red is the color of nobility. I wear red proudly day after day, leading my fellow foxes. Roses adorn our buildings, red foxes as far as the eye can see. I wear red, parade in it every day. They look up to me, the superior one, the leader. Little do they know that I am scarred by the color red. The color of blood….the color of a murderous passion. I am ashamed…..I am terrified. Uncle can't help me now….Uncle can't know…Red is the color of regeneration, like a phoenix, rising from the ashes. Let my shame and my guilt rise as well. Spare the lion. Spare the owl and wolf. Spare the majestic scarlet fox. Let our guilt rise from the dead.

Red is the color of death. I loathe red….I was always red. Like my father. My sister escaped the red. My sister was beautiful. _He_ was beautiful. He said he loved red….then I loved red. I wore it proudly. I embraced the bright passion of crimson. Until….he strayed from the scarlet himself. He left….he chose another. He chose my sister. I hated red. Red was the color of my mourning. Red brought about death….nothing but death. My husband, my child, my sister…_my love._ And soon enough, red brought about my death as well. How I loathe the color red….


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